


A Man Not Unkind

by orphan_account



Series: A Story not Untold. [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-War. Potter's not above getting high to deal with the pain and to be honest, Snape has never been above kidnapping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man Not Unkind

He hasn’t stalked Potter in a long time, not that he ever called it stalking back then. But there’s something suspicious about the way the man staggers out of the shop that has Severus tailing him quietly, unaware of what is about to begin.

It strikes him for a moment that it looks like fireworks. Looks like fireworks and sounds like a porno. Not that he knew much about either of those. Just as the ridiculousness of the thought occurs to him, so does the inanity of his inaction and it’s an easy motion to unsheath his wand and yell,

"MISTER POTTER IF YOU DO NOT STOP THIS VERY INSTANT."

succeeds in getting the man’s attention only to watch a blue spell catch him between broad shoulders, throwing him backwards and against the wall. Snape has the two other men involved stunned before Harry catches his breath, glaring up at the older man as he wipes the blood from his mouth.

"Could have handled that myself, asshole."

"You say from the ground, Mister Potter and watch your language."

"What are you going to do, professor? Dock points? in case its missed your notice, I’m not your student anymore."

There’s something eerie about the way Potter grins but Snape can’t put his finger on what’s more disconcerting, the red hue on his teeth or the way the man palms his wand, emerald eyes still set on Severus. There’s a shift on the grip and Snape sends him a quelling glare.

"Before you even uttered the spell I could have you stunned as well. Would you like to inform me exactly why you’re not only in Knockturn Alley but what appears to be drunkenly dueling with two against one?"

"Drunk? Why no. Not drunk."

There’s something in the laughter, something in the way he says it, the twinkle around shrunken pupils, that it all clicks. He doesn’t know why he does it, perhaps even now, even seven years after the war, nine years since Harry was ever his student- he still has a saving Potter thing, but he reaches down to pull the boy up by the collar and they’re spinning out of sight.

It’s with a shove that Harry is sent sprawling into the arm chair and he disappears for but a moment before handing the man a vial of green.

"Drink up, Potter. It’ll clear out whatever toxin is undoubtedly coursing through your system right now."

It’s only after Harry lets out a snarky ‘Cheers’ and tips the vial to his lips does the man flick his wrist to reference a room off to the left.

"That’s the restroom. You’ll be getting well acquainted with it. You may shower when you think that you’re through. Do not leave a single drop of bodily fluid- ANYWHERE, or you will regret it."

Green eyes send him a betrayed look as he rushes for the door and the Potions Master only inclines his head before disappearing into the kitchen. It’d be at least an hour before the man emerged and there are things to do in the mean time.

……..

Two hours later the man steps out, still toweling off his hair and looking sheepish. It’s amazing how much emptying the contents of his stomachs seems to have seeped the fight from him. Severus isn’t naive enough to think that it won’t return however, but for the moment the boy joins him at the small table and munches quietly on a sandwich. Snape waits until he’s consumed both it and a few biscuits before speaking again.

"My question still stands."

 

"Hm?"

"Don’t play ignorant with me, boy. What were you doing in knockturn alley today?"

"Something to do. The same as you I’m sure."

It’s just nonchalant enough to not be hostile, just evasive enough to be defensive and Snape finds he wants to strangle the man across from him. Not that he’d actually believed Potter would be honest about what had them crossing paths.

"I highly doubt you were looking for potion ingredients. and something to do, Potter? Really. Getting your ass kicked while…. what exactly were you high on anyway? What’d you do? think it was smart to insult the locals and steal their cheap thrills?"

"Oh professor, I promise you, there was no stealing involved and everything involving my ass was most definitely consensual."

He doesn’t splutter, that would be absolutely undignified, but he does come close.

"Oh come off it, Snape. Like you can claim the moral high ground here. And on that note- thanks for the supper but I must be going."

Snape only crosses his arms patiently, the beginnings of a smirk attempting to twitch as the man in front of him tries not once, not twice, but three times to apparate before realizing that it’s impossible.

"Did you really think that my wards would allow anyone but myself to apparate in or out of my place of residence?"

Harry doesn’t even wait for him to finish before he’s running to the front door, suddenly frantic as it shakes but doesn’t open.

"This is kidnapping you know. You can’t just kidnap me. I’m Harry Potter. People will notice."

"Just like they’ve noticed this most recent bender you’ve gone on, Mr. Potter? I think it would have been all over the prophet if so- Golden boy not so golden any more?"

"What do you care, Snape? I can vaguely understand you stopping a fight in knockturn…. kidnapping, unfortunately- I can understand. It’s the acting like you give a damn about me that’s got me confused."

"Maybe I just like a challenge."

"How long do you plan on keeping me?"

There’s the panic again, but Snape only shrugs. Mostly because he isn’t sure himself. Isn’t sure what he’ll do Potter continues to deign telling him, much less what he’ll do if the man does reveal his motivations. To hide his discomfort with this realization, he begins cleaning up the last of the dinner dishes.

In the end Harry gives up rattling the door and after another tense conversation, curls up on the couch with his back pointedly turned towards Snape, offered blanket still sitting on the arm. Severus sits in a nearby armchair reading quietly for almost an hour before heading to bed himself, hopeful that an answer to recently dubbed Potter-dilemma would come to him in his dreams.

It doesn’t.

Severus wakes to screaming and runs to the living room only to find Harry, face contorted and scratching at his arms. Before Snape can think to turn back for his wand, Potter has launched himself at him and the only thing Snape can do is try and restrain him. It’s only once his fingers are embedded into biceps hard enough to bruise that he realizes that the boy isn’t trying to attack him any longer, but hanging limply in the hold, breath coming in pants against Snape’s bare chest. When the man’s head drops against his shoulder, Severus realizes with a horrified start that he’s crying.

When he goes to release Potter’s shoulders the man begins to shudder and in a moment of confused insight, he tightens his grip again watching as the man relaxes once more. They stand like this for what feels like eternity, Potter startling everytime Snape considers letting him go- until the older man decides he can’t take it any more.

"Come on you ridiculous child. If you’re going to demand to be held, I would at least like to be comfortable. Either we go sit on the couch or I am going back to bed."

He’d meant alone, but the words seem to be the magic spell to get Harry to shake from his grip and stagger into his bedroom. Snape follows, blinking at the sight of the younger man climbing beneath the covers and scooting against the wall and staring at him expectantly. Severus groans under his breath, wondering what exactly he has gotten himself into this time before following suit- tensing slightly when the other man curls against his side, pulling Snape’s arm so that is snug about his waist.

Snape has almost drifted back off to sleep when the man speaks, “sometimes I can still feel them.”

He doesn’t know who them is, but doesn’t ask. There is half a dozen possibilities and not a single one of them is pleasant.

"Pressure makes it stop for a bit. Pain makes it stop for longer. The drugs always wear off too soon and I’m so fucking scared I’m going to keep chasing a high that doesn’t exist anymore."

"Potter…."

"No. Please, no. Shhhh. Shhh. Just.. be quiet. I’m pretending you’re someone who cares. Someone who is nice and kind and doesn’t care that not all of my scars are war wounds. Someone who doesn’t call me Potter or Golden boy. Someone who will make me chocolate chip pancakes in the morning. I don’t know. just… someone who cares."

Snape wants to say something just to spite him, just to remind him exactly who he has climbed into bed with- but figures even he isn’t heartless enough to deny the boy a chance to pretend. Harry seems to be waiting for him to respond anyway, and if nothing else he can mentally gloat over having proven the boy wrong, or at least- that’s what he tells himself.

"I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Everyone wanted me to marry Ginny, but I couldn’t….. I just… couldn’t. At first it was the war and then I realized that was just an excuse when it was over. She deserves someone better than me. Someone who isn’t so fucked up. Worked as an auror for a bit. Ron stopped talking to me because they didn’t even make me pass the exam- just let me in. Hermione… Hermione just… it’s not her fault but she cares in the wrong way.

It hurts too much to try and talk to her. She was always so concerned. It’s just… easier to take a potion, snort some dust and fuck or fight until I can’t feel anything anymore. Is that so bad….”

Part of him wants to answer, but he isn’t ready to contradict the boy’s desire for silence just yet. Potter’s fingers tense in their grip of the blanket for a moment and he quietly increases the pressure of his arm against the man until he relaxes once more.

In the morning he tries not to think of how strange it is wake up with a former comrade in his arms, much less a former male student. It’s easier to think in terms of the war on that front- makes him feel less like a perverted old man, even knowing that nothing of that nature had happened last night. It’s a bit too heavy of a train of thought to be entertaining at this hour so gently he extracts himself from said man’s grip and goes to relieve himself before beginning his day.

Harry says nothing as he eats the pancakes for breakfast, but shoots him a grateful smile none the less and Severus can’t help but wonder if its such a bad thing to let them both pretend he’s a kinder man than he is.


End file.
